


and sometimes when we touch, the honesty's too much

by heterocosmica



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, F/F, Llamas, Road Trips, Running Away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:02:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29362206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heterocosmica/pseuds/heterocosmica
Summary: working title: Faith and Tara steal a llama (or, how Faith and Tara ran away and found their place in the world)
Relationships: Faith Lehane/Tara Maclay
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	and sometimes when we touch, the honesty's too much

Bathed in the light of the purple neon motel sign Faith counted her breaths. The light was too bright for her to fall asleep on a night like this but there was nothing else to do. Tara was lying next to her, breathing evenly, probably fully unaware of the date approaching but Faith, oh Faith couldn't push it out of her mind one bit.

Going by the watch on Tara's wrist, she could tell that in less than a minute, it would be October 16th 1998. It would be October 16th and Tara would suddenly be an adult and, while Faith wasn't really the expert, she reckoned this whole thing they were doing would suddenly become much more illegal. After all, if two minors running away together get caught by police? Well, they get dragged back to their families kicking and screaming. An adult driving a minor across state lines, and this far across them, too? That's the situation that gets resolved by someone going to jail.

She had walked the fine line between starting this discussion with Tara and pretending nothing was going to happen for weeks but, in the hours when Tara was asleep and the buzzing of the neon light right above their window and the snoring of the trucker in the room next to theirs was keeping her awake, Faith felt an anxious chill spread down her spine, gliding slowly like ketchup from a glass bottle to settle deep in her stomach.

The big hand on the watch moved and Faith froze, staring at it in unblinking horror. The whole night had felt like the uphill part of a roller coaster. Her tension kept climbing higher and higher and now, suddenly, it felt like the whole world shifted under her. Like everything was irrevocably changed in an instant. It took her breath away.   
Realistically, she knew nothing would change. They would still have to be constantly on edge, constantly worried, looking carefully around them and waiting to bolt. Nothing would change because they would still be on the run, from Tara's family and Faith's-

Letting out a long breath, she turned, forced herself to look away. Now on her back, she focused on the cracked plaster of the ceiling and the flickering shadows on it, almost like a whole intricate, lively world to itself.

*

She woke to Tara's soft voice singing in the bathroom, out of tune and rhythm but carrying a peace with it. Mornings tended to bring a strange sort of clarity. There was a power in those first moments of light overtaking darkness, a power in it's regularity and certainty. There was never a night that didn't end in a day.

The anxiety of last night still lingered, but with morning light, with Tara singing in the bathroom, with her own sleep warmed face and loose limbs, there was a steadiness, a certainty that things just might work out fine.

She let herself stretch on the lumpy mattress, deliberately feeling the rough, warm sheets on her skin and focused on that sensation. There was nothing else in the world besides Tara, her, rough cotton against her skin, and the hard spring of the lumpy mattress digging into her hip.

"We should go on a ride." she croaked out, voice rough from sleep "We saw that sign for a private zoo on our way here, you said you wanted to check it out, we should go today."

*

It wasn't a zoo. Well, alright, perhaps it was, if your definition of a zoo was a farm with two rabbits, a cat, some ugly and seemingly very hostile chickens with something weird hanging off their faces, and three weird long necked sheep.

The old couple who owned the place seemed excited to lead them around and let them pet all the fluffy things, though, and didn't seem to be asking for money, so Tara and Faith stayed, each carrying a fluffy rabbit in their hands as they walked around after the old woman.

The ugly chickens followed along, periodically screaming and attempting to peck at each other or the three of them. Faith, frankly, wasn't a fan. The rabbits, though, their little hearts beating with panicked speed in her arms, were quite nice. Their soft fur felt gentle and comforting under her fingers, their small bodies a warm, steadying presence.

Not really listening to the woman, she followed along, petting the tiny creature in her arms, eyes trained on one of the strange sheep. They were steadily approaching the fenced in pasture where the sheep were somewhat lethargically standing around and she was overwhelmed by the urge to pet one, just for a bit.

*

The small old woman enthusiastically led them into the fenced in area, saying something about eye contact and spitting, before she walked away and back to the farmhouse. Though Faith couldn't fathom why she'd leave a couple of strangers with her sheep, she was excited at the opportunity. They did look exceptionally nice to hug after all, and she would have never lowered herself enough to hug an animal in front of a complete stranger.

As she approached the white one, she handed the rabbit in her arms to Tara, absentmindedly putting it on top of the rabbit already in Tara's arms.

The sheep was... beautiful. Its big wet eyes were rimmed with long, beautiful eyelashes and its face exuded a calm yet spiteful energy and Faith adored it instantly.   
"Don't get too close to the llama, the lady said they spit on people."

Faith rolled her eyes and stepped closer to the ... well, apparently, llama, placing a soft hand on its head.

"I don't think Richard's gonna spit on me, he's my best friend." she said matter-of-factly, turning to look at Tara with a grin.

"I thought I was your best friend." Tara answered, a soft smile tugging at her lips.

"You were, before I met Richard."

Wrapping her arms around the llama's neck, she pressed in closer to hug it, doing her best to stay gentle, her cheek against the llama's.

"Don't worry, you're my second best friend. Richard and I don't mind you hanging around occasionally."

With a soft smacking sound, the llama turned its head slightly before beginning to calmly chew on Faith's hair.

"Richard needs to come with us."

With an exasperated sigh, Tara put the rabbits down.

"I don't think we can take a llama to the motel with us."

"Why not? We have a truck."

"It's not our llama."

Faith made a face, attempting to make her eyes as big and sad as the llama's.

"Look at its little face, it wants to come with us. It loves me." with a smile, she added "It will grow to like you, too. With time."

*

The llama seemed to enjoy riding in the truck, feeling the air whooshing around its head as they drove faster than they probably should have to the motel they were living in for the time being. Occasionally, as Tara slowed, the llama would let out a seemingly happy chirp, head butting Faith who sat in the cargo bed with it, slowly petting its soft back.

The thing really did look like a Richard somehow, and even though they had no idea if it was a boy llama or a girl llama, the name felt true. By the time they got to the motel, they were no longer referring to it as "a llama", but instead, it was quite solidly "Richard". And Richard was an almost unreasonably affectionate.

They snuck it into their motel room, thankful that the parking lot to room route they took was as discreet as can be. Both Faith and Tara were convinced the motel's primary clientele was one that needed discretion, and, while it made them, as two teenage girls constantly on edge, feel somewhat unsafe before, in that moment, as Faith was leading Richard into their motel room, it felt like a blessing.

*

They slept well that night, Richard on the floor next to the bed, with a flimsy blanket tossed over him, Tara and Faith clinging to each other in the lumpy bed, the entire little gang's breathing deep, and steady.

*

The clarity of morning brought on new worries. What did llamas eat? Where would Richard poop? Did he need to be taken on walks? Was someone after them for llama theft? Neither of them had any idea.

After a lot of deliberation, or perhaps more accurately, after a lot of whisper-arguing so they don't wake Richard up, it was decided that Tara would go to the office and ask about a nearby library, and then go look llamas up in an encyclopedia. There was also a hope that she might stumble upon a "How to raise a llama in a motel room" type book, but neither of them put too much faith into that as a possibility. Still, anything was possible, right?

In the meanwhile, Faith was to sit in the room with Richard and try her best to keep him calm and quiet, which she accepted readily, eager to hang out with her new buddy.  
As Tara left, Faith settled down on the floor, next to Richard's sleeping form, and cuddled up close, petting him gently over the blanket.

*

Tara came back hours later with a handful of papers covered in mostly nonsensical scribbles and a bag of grass she had seemingly ripped up with her bare hands from the side of the road.

Faith watched her set it all on the bed from a spot on the floor where she was attempting to clean up llama poop with one ply toilet paper the motel provided once a week.

"The room smells like we have an animal in here."

"Might be because we have an animal in here." Faith answered with a wide grin. "It's OK, just crack the window open a bit, it'll be fine."

*

It lasts two weeks. Two weeks of popping out in shifts to get food and grass. Two weeks of shushing Richard to keep him quiet. Two weeks of leading the llama to a corner lined with toilet paper they've stolen from a nearby diner every time he looks like he might poop before someone complains.

Two weeks in, the motel manager burs through the door without knocking. His large form and booming voice ripping them from the restful sleep they were, all three of them, basking in.

That night, Richard woke up enraged, lifting his llama body from the floor with a scream. Without any more warning, he rushed at the strange man in their room, letting out a long shriek. It took all of Faith's might to pull the llama back, hold him in place just far enough from the motel manager, who was still yelling but now seemed frightened, that he could still stretch his long neck out to bite, but only just.

Tara, however, was rushing around the room, gathering their things and pulling on clothes. It mattered very little to both her and Faith in that moment, that Faith was standing there, clinging to a llama, completely naked.

Both of them only carried a level of certainty that the cops were on their way.

*

Faith drove, wearing nothing but a t-shirt, as Tara sat in the cargo bed with Richard, doing her best to keep him calm and occasionally feeding him the little left over grass they managed to take along.

Her thighs were most definitely stuck to the seat, though she didn't let herself dwell on that too much. They needed to drive through at least one more county before they could consider stopping even for a short break, they needed to be far enough.

She wasn't deluding herself with the thought that someone might be following, the truck was far too slow to outrun a police car and they certainly would have been caught by then if anyone was coming after them. Still, the image of Richard, first furious, then with a clearly wounded pride, spitting in the motel manager's face as Tara, barefoot and scared, tried to pull both of them towards the truck, kept her going. Every time she considered stopping, it would pop into her head again and she would change her mind.

*

Only ten hours later did they feel relaxed enough to consider stopping somewhere for longer than a couple of minutes. They were hungry, tired and sticky with sweat, and far too stiff from sitting most of the day through to worry anymore.

Faith went down a seemingly neglected dirt road, looking for a secluded enough place. They were far from big, sprawling fields of nothing but corn and grass of the day before.

Perhaps not too far, they were still very much surrounded by farms, but there were mountains on the horizon and trees by the road. The Earth didn't feel quite as open anymore. And Faith felt far less vulnerable here, on a shady dirt road, surrounded by trees, hearing a stream rumbling through the open window.

She parked the truck by the water and left the truck slowly, Tara mirroring her at the passenger side. They both stretched, bending forward and back, their joints popping in the silence of the woods.

*

They slept in the cargo bed that night, bundled up in a blanket that had been forgotten on Richard as they rushed from the motel. Richard, however, spent the night exploring the little patch of fresh grass they were parked on and drinking fresh stream water to his heart's content.

Tara had suggested tying him to the truck before they had gone to sleep and they had fashioned a rope, carefully cutting up and braiding one of Tara's old tops, but the girls still went to sleep with a dose of worry that he might just rip the rope, or chew through it, and wander off.

In the morning, however, Richard was still there, chirping with satisfaction at being out and about.

*

There was no space to turn in the little clearing, so they continued on down the dirt road, after the adventure of pulling the reluctant Richard back into the bed of the truck.  
Somehow, miraculously, at the end of the road stood a pretty modest, mostly crumbling and clearly empty house. It was one story, the wood steps in front of it visibly rotting, the roof caved in on one side, covered in layers upon layers of peeling paint, and it was there. Right in front of them.

For the first time since they left, Faith felt the anxiety ease. She could see a life, a good, safe, content life, rushing towards them. The possibilities were endless because it suddenly felt they were on the right track, in the right place.

Here, their life could begin.

**Author's Note:**

> I know very little about American geography and I refuse to subject myself to learning any more. I will not be taking constructive criticism on this.  
> *  
> I have been writing, rewriting, completely deleting and restarting, and endlessly editing this vague idea for literal years, and then this morning I woke up, decided to delete my old draft of this, and wrote this one in one go and now I'm posting it because if I don't I'm gonna edit it again and again and it's never gonna end so, sorry if this isn't quality, I might come back and edit it at some point, but this is what you get and I will not be writing a continuation please don't ask for it.


End file.
